His Last Resort
by enomix
Summary: It's the week of the Yule Ball and Draco Malfoy still hasn't got a date - and he simply cannot be seen solo at a school dance. But a conversation with Blaise makes him think up a cunning plan that will shock the entire school and restore the Malfoy's reputation but might upset a few people along the way. Please R&R! For Opaque-Girl as a prize for the Marauder's Map Contest 2010.


A oneshot for second place winner of the Marauder's Map Contest 2010, _opaque-girl,_ for her story _Cunning, Sneaky and Oh-So Slytherin  
_(was previously part of a collection but I have uploaded them individually)

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended, I only own the plot

* * *

**His Last Resort**

No one. Absolutely nobody.

How was it possible? There had to be someone, _anyone_.

Draco Malfoy stood in the middle of the corridor, dateless.

That's when he saw her. She had turned around the corner, and now came gliding towards him, her burning hair flowing up and down behind her in elegant waves. He couldn't help but stare at her a little, but slowly snapped back to reality as he realized that it was no good thinking about her.

"Get out of the way, Malfoy."

_Never her_.

* * *

As the day went by, he had asked ten girls to the Ball, all of which already had dates. Astoria Greengrass was going with Theodore Nott, Cho Chang with Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour (hey- he couldn't resist the temptation), with that idiot Roger Davies, and he had lost track of everyone else.

Even Scarface and Carrothead had dates… and the Patil sisters weren't ugly at all, which meant that he was going to have to try extra-hard to annoy them.

But how, if every single good-looking girl was already going with some freak? He sighed, and occupied himself with eating a bite of his sirloin steak.

"I can't go with you, Zabini."

Draco looked up. There was Millicent Bulstrode, probably the ugliest girl in the year, sitting next to Blaise Zabini, who was looking at her with an expression of both disgust and plea.

"Please, Buls –_Millicent_. You won't even have to dance with me, you can go run off with your friends once we're there –but I can't go _dateless_."

The girl showed no sign of pity.

"I already told you, _Zabini_, I am NOT going with you. I already have a date."

Draco raised an eyebrow, and Blaise nearly fell out of his seat.

"Huh? Whom are you going with?"

The Slytherin blushed, and mumbled something that went unheard to both Draco and Blaise.

"Who?"

"Crclgn," she whispered.

"WHO?"

"CORMAC MCLAGGEN!"

Draco choked on a piece of his steak, and Blaise accidentally spilled the contents of his mug all over Millicent's blouse, which caused her to run out of the hall shrieking in pain.

The Malfoy looked over at his bewildered friend, amused.

"What were you drinking?"

Blaise simply looked at him disbelievingly, with a dazed look upon face.

"Hot chocolate."

* * *

Two hours till the ball.

_Still solo_.

Damn that crazy Dumbledore! Damn Snape! Damn the Goblet that wouldn't take his name!

Draco kicked the chair in front of him, causing Hermione Granger to fall, and Professor Snape to look at him with an annoyed expression on his face as the mudblood screamed in bewilderment, hitting the floor.

"Woops."

Snape's lip curled.

"Miss Granger, that is the second time you have interrupted my class. If you are unable to sit still, I recommend a Permanent Sticking Charm. In the meantime, fifteen points from Gryffindor. Now to get back to your potion."

Hermione looked at Draco with fuming eyes, her face manifesting every symptom of anger. The Malfoy limited himself to smirking smugly.

* * *

"Any luck, Blaise?"

Draco's friend looked up from his Astronomy book with a glum expression.

"No. I tried to ask Lavender Brown but she's going with Longbottom. Oh Merlin, what has happened to this world?"

"Indeed. If even Longbottom has a date, there cannot be any more free girls. But this is ridiculous. We MUST find someone to go with. Otherwise we'll be laughing stock for the ridiculous Gryffindors when it should be them facing this problem."

Blaise looked around the common room annoyed; scanning every face as if looking hard enough would cause some beautiful girl would appear and ask him to the ball.

As it was, to his delight, a rather pretty third-year came down the dormitory steps and entered the common room.

"Draco," he said, nudging his friend, who looked up rather annoyed from his crossword in _The Daily Prophet_.

"What do you want, Blaise? Can't you see I'm doing this crossword?"

"A _crossword_? In a time like this? You must be mad. Anyway, look over there," Blaise replied, indicating the girl who had just sat down on a nearby sofa.

"She's Caroline Goodwin. Third year, powerful family. _And_?"

Blaise looked in disbelief at Draco.

"_AND_? She probably doesn't have a date to the ball, that's what!"

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"You're going to ask a third-year girl you've never talked to before to the Yule Ball. Really."

"Well, if you don't have any better ideas," the other answered, getting up and walking over to the sofa where Caroline was sitting.

The Malfoy rolled his eyes and went back to his crossword. It was quite easy; the Prophet obviously didn't have a very skilled crossword maker. But then, who would want to earn a living making puzzles? The Slytherin looked down at the last entry.

_32: the action of inflicting hurt or harm on someone for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands_

With a complacent smirk, Draco jotted down the last word, completing the puzzle.

_**revenge**_

* * *

"Get out of the way, Malfoy."

"That's the second time you've told me that today, Weasley."

Ginny stared at him with raised eyebrows.

"Then you should stop bumping into me, shouldn't you?" she snapped, turning around and heading off towards the end of the corridor.

"Someone's not in a good mood today."

The Gryffindor turned around and marched back to where Draco still stood, her eyes enraged.

"Whether or not I'm feeling fine is none of your business. You haven't had a lucky day either, from what I've heard. But I don't see anyone pestering you for information because they're _dying_ to know whatever's happened to you. Do you want me to tell you why? Because _no one cares_."

Draco stared at Ginny. His ears heard nothing but rage, his eyes saw red, and his brain thought fury.

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that! Stupid girl… I bet you don't have a date either!"

Ginny blushed a deep scarlet.

"If you must know, no! But it doesn't matter; I didn't want to go anyway. And Ron hasn't been too nice lately either—or Harry for that matter…"

So she was mad at her brother and Potter. A small plan starts to form in the Slytherin's mind. A twisted plan, an artful plan, a guileful one. A plan involving revenge.

* * *

"Merlin's mismatched socks, Harry! Look over there!"

Hermione Granger came down the stairs in a beguiling gown, her hair no longer bushy and her face no longer stuck inside a book. She looked absolutely beautiful in Ron's eyes.

"She's gorgeous…" gasped an awe-struck Ron. Harry simply smiled. The Patil twins however, exchanged dark looks at the redhead's sudden distraction.

The muggle-born walked past the four, nodding at them in greeting and going off to join her date, Viktor Krum.

"She's with—with _him_?" exclaimed Ron in disbelief.

"Never mind that, Ron. Look over _there_," murmured Harry.

"Bloody hell…"

Ginny Weasley was looking fantastic in a navy gown, her red hair was styled elegantly in ringlets, and she wore a silver diadem to keep it in place. She was radiant… as was her escort.

Draco Malfoy wore black dress-robes and a smug smile adorned his face.

It took all of Harry, Parvati and Padma's strength to keep Ron from knocking the Malfoy dead.

"That—wretched—pompous—no right—can't—little sister—she'll be hearing from me—idiot—how dare—no reason—preposterous—"

Padma tried to soothe him down. "Try to talk in whole sentences, Ron."

"I can't!" exclaimed Ron, "Not when that vain wretch is dancing with my little sister! How dare he! No—ignorant—stupid—idiot—I'll be heard—dancing—no right—"

"Ron, you've gone back to random words again!" whined Padma.

* * *

"Well, that was a very agreeable evening. Thank you for helping me with that little revenge," said Malfoy.

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"A Malfoy expressing his gratitude? You must be under the Imperius Curse."

The two were sitting on one of the benches in the cloister.

"Well, I must admit that you played your part quite well," he said with a smile. "And you _did_ get your part of the deal too; did you see your brother's face when he saw us coming down the steps!"

Ginny started to laugh.

"And McGonagall! Did you see her bewildered expression? I thought she was going to faint!"

Draco joined her in her chuckles, and the two kept laughing until their eyes filled up with tears.

"Oh, that was the most fun I've ever had since I told the Fat Lady Sir Cadogan wanted to court her!" exclaimed the Gryffindor.

"You really did that?"

"Well, I was bored. You should've seen how excited she got, and by pure luck Sir Cadogan was visiting that picture of the hyenas, the one that's about four paintings away from the Fat Lady, and she ran off to declare her love!"

"And what did Sir Cadogan say?" asked the Slytherin, amused.

"That he'd rather be eaten alive by the hyenas!" finished Ginny, and broke into another fit of laughter.

"I have to go now," mentioned the Weasley, checking the silver wristwatch she was wearing. "It's almost two."

She got up, and started towards the great hall.

"Wait—Ginny."

She turned. "What do you want…_Draco_?"

He walked slowly up to where she was, and taking her face in his hands, kissed her.

"Nothing much."


End file.
